


Belonging Again

by Eustacia Vye (eustaciavye)



Series: Walking Yggdrasil [7]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Norns - Freeform, Yggdrasil - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-03
Updated: 2016-08-03
Packaged: 2018-07-29 02:55:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7667530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eustaciavye/pseuds/Eustacia%20Vye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is what happens to those that amuse the Norns.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Belonging Again

Loki stared at the Avengers in front of him in surprise. Other than Natasha, they were older than he remembered, and the arrangement of people was different. Even Steve Rogers, the man out of time, appeared to be a bit older, if the wrinkles around his eyes could be believed. The magical girl he had seen was now a young woman, more confident in her stance. She seemed to have more skill than before. The Falcon and Antman were smoothly integrated as parts of the team. Vision, not being alive, hadn't aged, but he and Scarlet Witch seemed to have an attachment to each other if her touch at his elbow meant such a thing.

Natasha, glorious and deadly and beautiful as ever, stood before him with her companions, exactly the same as when he had last seen her in the Black Widow cluster. There was awful knowledge in her eyes; the fusion of the copied Natasha with the actual one had been successful, then, and she carried both sets of memories. She likely also had told the others about her travels in the galaxy along Yggdrasil.

"He's not here to destroy us," she told them confidently.

He could feel the press of magic against his mind, and glared at the Witch. "The terrors you felt," she murmured as his gaze fell on her.

"Get out of my mind!" Loki snarled.

"I didn't know the Norns were real," she continued.

Natasha laid a quelling hand on his arm, much as she had done to cool his temper with the Ravagers. "Come inside, tell us what happened."

Something inside of Loki quailed, but there was no artifice in the request. For her, he would confess his terror and desperation, but the thought of the others hearing of it troubled him. Loki needed them to see him as strong and capable, fearsome and powerful. The Captain had seen him captured and bound, so it was especially important that he be impressed.

"Wait," Steve said with a frown. "You talked to the Fates? That's... Wow."

All right. Perhaps the man was impressed anyway.

Led through glass and chrome halls, Loki was brought to a conference room. The chairs were all leather and quite comfortable, and everyone took seats that let them observe him. There were even members of the team that he didn't know, not even by reputation or from Clint's memories, and he found that rather troubling. Where had they come from? He and Natasha hadn't been gone that long. It didn't matter that Steve introduced them, that he was being treated in a gracious manner. All that did was add to his unease.

"You are all unfailingly polite," he interrupted. "As if you avoid telling me terrible news."

"When I got back," Natasha said quietly, "I told them about my trip around the galaxy with you."

"I expected as much," he told her.

"Loki, that was five years ago."

He stared at her, uncomprehending. "It was just a day."

"She told us the story five years ago," the Scarlet Witch told him. "And I looked into her mind to see that it was true. The galaxy is vast and frightening."

"Yes," he replied absently, "it can be."

"Tell us what happened to you, Loki," Natasha said.

This was the trouble with amusing the Norns, wasn't it? They wanted him to continue amusing them, so here he was with Natasha again, when she likely had moved on. Perhaps with her archer or the good Captain himself. Or maybe the Falcon, he seemed like a cheerful sort that would appreciate her.

When he didn't start right away, frowning as he tried to think of what to say, Natasha looked at him in concern. "Is Thanos still alive?"

"Yes," he said, feeling a numb ache inside of his chest. "At least, I didn't kill him. He's in the center of the Black Widow cluster we were in, where the Time Gem was."

"I'm sure no one is going to attempt that ever again," Natasha told him with a slight smile, "even with magic. I'm pretty sure they think we're dead."

"Yes. It's what I was counting on."

Leaning in a bit, Natasha leveled a comforting smile at him. "So what happened next?"

It was impossible to describe what it felt like, even if he wanted to. Some of his memories had blurred, which was disconcerting to realize. Loki instead cast his eyes down, lips flattening into a straight line. "They are the Norns. Their attentions are not always pleasant."

"And the gems?" Steve asked.

"Baubles of the Norns," Loki replied.

"At least Thanos doesn't have it," Falcon said, shrugging. "So he can't get out of the trap he's in."

"There's also the issue where we had thought you were dead until Natasha told us about your journey," Vision said. "We hadn't informed Asgard five years ago because we weren't sure if you had even survived. Now that we know you have—"

"Don't," Loki said sharply. "I was to be kept imprisoned in isolation for the rest of my life."

"Your actions surely mitigate some of your crimes," Vision said as some of the others merely gaped at Loki. Natasha seemed to understand exactly why it was so horrible for him.

"That is not how the Allfather's decrees work."

"But you helped save the galaxy!" the Witch cried. "That has to count for something!"

"It wasn't his will, so no, it would not."

An uncomfortable silence hung over them all.

"Now what?" Falcon asked.

"We should do what's right," Steve said quietly. "But we have an alliance with Asgard."

"Think carefully, then," Natasha said, making Loki look at her in confusion. "The realm is an ally, but so are you."

Loki blinked. "By what machinations do you determine that? My efforts to stop Thanos? It hadn't been to save your realm. And I'd wanted to rule Asgard. I brought the Chitauri here in an effort to rule this realm. The Allfather won't look kindly on that at all."

"We do things differently here," Steve said earnestly. "There were mitigating circumstances that Natasha told us about. The attack on New York was at Thanos' insistence. If you're a citizen of Midgard, you're subject to our rules and punishments. And here, we'd commute your sentence to community service and extended probation."

Something tightened inside of his chest, a frightening ache that nearly took his breath away. He could see Natasha watching him carefully, and knew that she would be able to see right through him. That was terrifying as well; he had never meant to have her see him so clearly, never meant for her to be important.

He had changed so much, and it wasn't even the Norns' fault.

"You need time to think," the Witch said, surprisingly perceptive. Perhaps she was still looking into his mind, but he didn't feel the press of her magic. It was most like the _seidr,_ and was a measure of comfort even though he didn't like her gauche attempts to wield it.

"We'll get a room ready," Steve said, rising to his feet.

"There's the guest chamber on Level One," Vision commented.

Whatever it was, it was likely fortified and meant to contain monsters. Steve readily agreed, and Loki looked to Natasha. He wasn't sure why he wanted her input, but her fractional nod at him eased the tension in his chest slightly. She wouldn't harm him like this. There was enough honor in her that if she wanted to take him to task for sending her away, it would be done in private and to his face, not behind his back when he least expected it.

Silently, he let them lock him into the room. The walls were tougher than he had expected them to be, and his magic didn't seem to work at all. He couldn't even so much as manifest a simple light spell while in the room. No wonder they felt safe with him here.

If this was what being favored by the Norns was like, he would have vastly preferred being an outcast in the Void to this.

***

Natasha tapped the entry code for Loki's room and was unsurprised to see him pacing the length of the room with agitated steps. His eyes were wild when he turned to look at her, tension in every motion he made. "You didn't have to come here," she murmured as the door slid shut behind her, locking them both in. There were various sensors and monitors, a modified AI that Vision had put together when Tony had removed FRIDAY in a huff.

"You mean to keep me imprisoned," he accused, coming closer. She didn't even flinch when his hand wrapped around her throat, just a little bit of pressure there.

She didn't move or break eye contact. "Thor's come with Odin. Steve is talking with them now, acting as Ambassador, pleading your case. You running out there and hurling green fire or turning blue won't help matters," she replied.

He let go of her, visibly shaken by her words. "I am not—" He broke off his words and turned away, a telling movement indeed. "The silence will kill me."

"Now, that's just being melodramatic," Natasha sighed, shaking her head and crossing her arms over her chest. She smirked when he whirled around to face her. "You need quiet. Certain kinds of quiet. Like the kind I was able to give you."

Loki actually blanched, not a response she would have expected. "Did you tell them? Did the Witch see of the _argr?"_

"Not sure what you're referring to," she replied, unfolding her arms and approaching him with a slow and straightforward step. "I know that the Tsarina contained the energy you had. That you needed it when you couldn't calm yourself down."

"You think you know me," he scoffed. But she saw the swallow, the way his pupils dilated with need slightly. She had been looking for it, trying to confirm for herself that she still remembered all of his tells. It had been five years for her, and that was a long time, even if her blood work and exams all seemed to show no change at all.

It was probably the Time Gem, keeping her as she was when Loki sent her back. Unintentional, she was sure, but it had the effect of rendering her near invulnerable. Oh, she still could be injured in all sorts of grievous ways, but her body could repair itself if given enough time and nutrients to heal. It was a useful if painful attribute.

Natasha reached up and touched his cheek, her touch gentle and tender. He flinched, swallowing again, and then his eyes fell shut when her other hand came to rest on his chest. "I know what we had," she said, voice lulling and quiet. "I know what helped then, and this is another weird set of circumstances beyond our control."

Loki's eyes snapped open. "Surely you have some say. You know what they would do."

"I've said my piece. Then I was dismissed."

He frowned, almost affronted on her behalf. "That would be the Allfather, dismissive of all ideas but his own. He can do no wrong," he spat, frustration and rage in his voice.

She let her thumb run over the edge of his lower lip. "This isn't his realm, Loki. He doesn't hold power here, just as he didn't hold it in the outer reaches of the galaxy."

"Your Captain won't violate a treaty on my behalf."

"You forget how persuasive we all could be if we tried," she said with a smile.

"No, you—"

 _"Kneel,"_ she said, curling her hand at his chest into his clothing, fisting the fabric and pushing down. She could see the way his nostrils flared slightly, aroused and angry, but he didn't resist her push. He fell to his knees gracefully, looking up at her, her hand still at his cheek. "I want you quiet, Loki. I want you still."

"You cannot expect it of me."

"I am your Tsarina, aren't I?"

His breath whistled in through his teeth, lips parting in surprise. "It's been five years for you."

"And a day for you."

Natasha didn't do much more than hold eye contact, rubbing his lip with her thumb. He trembled a little, likely anticipating that she would do more with him. "They didn't hurt you physically," she said after a moment. When his lips parted, not quite gasping in outrage, she slid her thumb into his mouth. "The Norns," she clarified as he licked the pad of her thumb. She drew it out slowly and used the wetness there to moisten his lip. "I don't think the Fates of Yggdrasil would need to do such a thing. Physical attacks seem to be beneath magic users. But the power they hold, the fact that impossible things like the Infinity Gems are trinkets to them... I think that hurt you. To feel so small next to them. You were born a prince."

"I was born nothing," Loki rasped, voice raw. "I was raised a prince, but I was left to die. He said that to me, that my birthright was death and not a kingdom."

"He says a lot of things," Natasha murmured. "And there are more things that he doesn't say."

Loki made a soft choking sound deep in his throat, and Natasha took her other hand to the back of his head, threading her fingers through his hair. "You think you know the Allfather?"

She smiled at his incredulous expression. "Men like that, they think they know it all. They don't hide their intentions very well, because it never occurs to them that there should be something to hide. So I think I can make very educated guesses."

"You think you see into the hearts of all men?"

Chuckling, Natasha bent down and pressed her lips to his upturned forehead. "In this case."

"It's not so simple."

"Sh," she murmured against his forehead. "Stop thinking. Stop making it so complicated, Loki. I know there are more layers to all of you than you're willing to show. I know how much pride rules the both of you. Trust in Steve. He'll figure out a plan. Others might not agree with him, but he says what he means, and would never offer to do something he didn't think he could follow through with."

A shudder ran through him. "Unlike me. You're better off with him."

"I'm better off with whoever I choose," she corrected gently. Standing, she pulled her hands away from him, a gentle smile on her face. "Five years is a long time, Loki."

"I didn't change your fate," Loki blurted. "I could have. I had the Time Gem, I could have changed your fate, I could have changed the way the entire universe worked."

Her smile broadened further. "I'm glad you didn't. I think it's better this way."

"You've changed a great deal," he observed, a sad and bitter edge to his voice.

"Yes, I have. And so have you."

With that, she slipped out of the door, locking it behind her. Loki was vaguely disappointed that she hadn't tried to bend him to her will, exert her sexual wiles and give him the peace that endorphins could bring. But in a sense, she was right. It was better this way, because the agitation had been stripped from his bones with just her presence. Instead of being boneless and empty, he could still _think._

That had always been Loki's greatest weapon.

***

Everything carried the misty, fogged out appearance of a dream. "Sometimes," Verðandi whispered, "to grow is to lose." She had said this before, when cradling Loki as a mother would cradle her child. He had longed for her, for Frigga, and his chest ached with need and a horrible anticipation. But the great Goddess smiled down on him, kindly, gently. "Sometimes there is no reason whatsoever. You don't see the pattern of it."

"No, I don't," Loki replied. Those hadn't been his exact words, he knew they weren't, but he couldn't recall what he had actually said.

She laughed, which also hadn't been her response to him. He had lost the thread of their talk, the horrid dread that he had felt down to his very bones. But she had been proud of him. She had liked his actions, had thought him worthy for a time.

Oh, how it hurt to know he could never be worthy.

Something stalked him, right outside his line of vision. Perhaps it was one of the hounds; his luck was certainly poor enough for it. Or it could be Níðhöggr, the great serpent that ate at the roots of Yggdrasil until it weakened. Loki had walked the lengths of the great Tree's branches, had seen into the Void, had for a time even held the entirety of Fate in his hands.

He knew he wasn't worthy. He knew that Odin should lock him in his energy cage, should keep him apart from the mortals. Loki was only capable of wreaking havoc, of bringing doom and destruction to all that he touched.

"Loki," someone said behind him. Not the same stalking sensation, something less malevolent but not necessarily benign. He couldn't recognize the voice, couldn't tell if it was male or female or some other gender in between.

"Who are you?" he asked, refusing to show fear. He would not be afraid, would never allow himself to appear anything less than strong.

The genderless voice laughed, gentle but mocking. "You know exactly who I am."

 _I'm pathetic,_ Loki thought, heart sinking and stomach roiling. _I really don't know._

"Wake up!"

Shaken awake, Loki tumbled out of the narrow bed that had been in the room. His mind didn't register his surroundings at all, and his mouth had fallen open in a silent scream. When his eyes managed to convey information to his mind again, he saw Natasha kneeling on the floor beside him, a steadying hand on his shoulder, concern etched into her features.

"There shouldn't be any magic in here. But you were surrounded by a green light and seizing," she told him in brisk tones. The truth, then.

"A fog," he managed to say. "Shadows shifting."

She brought her other hand to cup his face, and she studied his expression. "Not your magic, but someone else's. Odin said that it wasn't your casting."

His expression twisted of its own volition at the thought of Odin coming anywhere near him. He was still prideful, but shamed and desperately hungry for the approval he could never win. It was possibly _argr,_ worse than base sentimentality, but he couldn't help himself, either. His experiences in the galaxy had scraped him raw, had left him unable to build up the defenses he had so carefully crafted.

Natasha dipped her forehead close enough to touch his. "It wasn't his, either. He didn't recognize it. Loki, he's not here to hurt you."

"I sincerely doubt that. Solitary confinement is considered harm."

"Your crimes were terrible, and you still don't regret them."

"There was a purpose," he told her, feeling hollow. "There was always a purpose."

"And now you have a new one."

Loki pulled away from her and managed to avoid gaping or staring. "You—"

"You met the challenge of saving the galaxy from Thanos. It's a lot of black to wipe out the red, but there's still the question of regret."

"You expect me to _repent,"_ he said, lips twisting in distaste.

"I expect you to do _better._ I expect you to be Loki, a master of lies and trickery, owner of your own center of stillness." She leaned in again, her lips at his temple. "You are to learn humility and care for others, to know to feel things other than rage."

He tried to push her away, because he already knew how to feel something other than rage, and he _hurt_ whenever he did. But Natasha had expected that, and held onto him tightly. "Your sentence has been altered," she continued, voice soft. "Your imprisonment won't be in the palace basement, but on Earth. Midgard is to be your prison. You're not even allowed out into the galaxy anymore, if something else should happen."

Not that it really mattered, but having restrictions chafed something awful. Odin had known exactly what he was doing, and Loki refused to believe that Natasha and Steve didn't have a rather large hand in the circumstances.

"A gilded cage is still a cage," Loki replied.

"At least this is a bigger one," she offered, pressing her lips against his skin before letting go of him and leaning back. "And Thor suggested that you teach Wanda Asgardian magic."

"Why would I do such a thing?" And more importantly, why would Thor suggest it?

"To keep you from being bored," Natasha said, rolling gracefully to her feet. She held out a hand to him, a smirk on her lips. "We all know that a bored Loki is a very dangerous Loki."

It was just enough to assuage his bruised ego. "Well, then, I suppose I should meet my pupil," Loki murmured, a surly note to his voice. "Under duress, I should add."

"Be nice. We'll see about what kind of rewards you would be able to earn."

The gleam in her eye was tantalizing, and Loki found himself smirking back at her. "Indeed. Do they realize what kind of game you play with me?"

"None of their business, is it?" she asked with a negligent shrug.

"No, no it is not."

Taking her hand in a tight grip, Loki let her lead him out into the rest of the building.

The room that Loki was assigned in the complex was rather large by mortal standards, but hadn't been quite as large as his suite in the palace on Asgard. The walls were the same type of fortified material that his cell on Level One had been made from, but it didn't inhibit his magic. If anything, it seemed to contain it within the room, so that any rituals wouldn't spill over into the rest of the complex. Unnecessary for him, as he knew how to ground his spells and work within ritual circles and boundaries if any of the spells were likely to go awry, but perhaps they thought it safer this way. They didn't understand magic or how to practice it, after all. If Wanda was their only guide, the Avengers were woefully unprepared.

He stared at the contents of the room and managed to suppress a shiver. It was standard issue, he supposed. Plain white walls, windows with reinforced glass overlooking a spacious lawn, an attached bathroom, a large closet, dressers with a mirror over it, a desk with lamp and chair, two empty bookcases, and a bed to sleep on. It was impersonal, and reminded him of just how little he had now. Once a prince with every need met before he even realized he had it, now there was little more than the clothes on his back to his name. The armor, weapons, scrolls, books, artifacts, decorations and mementos of his youth were locked away in his suite on Asgard, and he wouldn't be allowed any of it. Everything was gone.

Nausea hit him, hard and intense, and he nearly doubled over in pain. It shouldn't have mattered, it shouldn't have felt like loss, it shouldn't have hit him like this.

Loki shouldn't have been grieving the past.

Natasha was beside him instantly, and this time he could take in the fact that she was dressed in fitted denim jeans, boots, a shirt and cardigan. Though she looked fairly ordinary, Loki knew she was anything but that.

"I told the others not to put anything in here," she told him. All brisk business and facts, but it was soothing in a way. Perhaps she knew it would be so. "I didn't want you to feel insulted by their attempts to make you feel at home," she continued when he remained silent. Her slight frown told him nothing. What did she really feel? Was there something still there for him, or had she moved on to better?

Oh, how that thought _burned._ But he wasn't _good,_ no matter how often she might try to convince him he could be. Loki was chaos personified, not good in the way that her Captain could effortlessly be, the way that the little witch was trying to be. He just was, and didn't know how else to become what the others needed.

"Did you want to have Asgardian items here? Or would that hurt more?" she prompted. "It's a small thing, decorating a room, but it's important, too."

"It's nothing."

"No, it's not," she said fiercely. The intensity of her gaze nearly made him step back. "You're starting over. You're not the person you were when you started walking along Yggdrasil's branches, and it's stupid to try being him. You're someone new now, and you don't have to repeat the same mistakes. Your choices are your own, and it's time you made some. This is a first step. Practice." Her gaze softened a fraction. "It's hard, starting over. I know. You don't know how else to be, who else to be. This is practice, Loki. Make the small decisions. Figure out what you like now, what you want to do."

"You think you know me," Loki choked out.

"I know how this part goes. And this is the same for everybody. The blank slate is terrifying. It can mean everything and nothing. You could be anyone, but you've never had to be before."

"I am not _good,"_ he ground out. Dammit, he hadn't meant to say that aloud.

Her lips quirked into a smile. "I wouldn't ask that of you."

"Then what do you ask?"

"Be someone the Tsarina can be proud of."

Loki's breath caught, and his mind faltered. "You mentioned—"

Natasha reached up and drew him down for a kiss that made his toes curl with need. His heart jackhammered in his chest as his hands went to her waist almost of their own volition. As her tongue swept over his lips, he thought his knees would buckle.

She hadn't lied. No, of course she hadn't. That wasn't her way, not for this. What better trap for him than one of truths? Loki could see through lies, would feel the need to tell even more to show her up. But with a web of attachments and truths, he was tangled up and couldn't escape. He didn't know how to.

Or want to, truth be told.

He shivered in her embrace and had trouble breathing when she was done with the kiss. "The rewards you alluded to..."

"You need the Tsarina, don't you?" she murmured, watching him carefully.

His breath caught in his chest, and he swallowed painfully. "I need you," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. Such power he was giving her, yet he knew he could trust her with this, that she wouldn't betray him.

Her hand cupped his cheek tenderly. "You'll find your place here, Loki, I promise."

"Can you keep that kind of promise?" he asked, voice raw and pained.

"Absolutely."

Loki was ashamed that he needed the promise, that he needed her companionship and regard to feel worthy. And worse yet, he believed her.

"I'll stay with you for a while, if you like. I don't have to be anywhere until this evening."

He frowned at her. "I don't want your pity."

"I know," she replied. "It's not that." Tugging on his hand, she brought him to the plain, undecorated bed and sat down. "But this place is new and strange. I know what that's like. I can help you figure out what you want to do with the space."

The sight of her sitting on his bed was rather comforting, actually. "It seems so... petty."

Natasha laughed. "So? As if you bringing thousands of aliens down to New Mexico because you were mad at Thor wasn't petty."

"That was not!" he snarled.

She rolled her eyes at him. "From my perspective? It looks petty. It looks like you had everything you wanted, and it still wasn't good enough."

"Everything was unraveling," Loki snarled at her, lips bared. Suddenly it felt as though he was back in that moment, panic setting in, and all he had was the thinnest of threads keeping him together and in power.

"And you're in the same place now, aren't you?"

He snapped his mouth shut and leaned away from her. She saw too much, and it was uncomfortable. She likely knew that, too.

"You can ask me for what you need," she continued, her voice gentle. "You're safe here, in this room, with me. You know that, don't you?"

Loki's heart hammered in his chest, though he couldn't have said why it would. His breathing was harsh and sharp, and that sensation of unraveling was even worse. Why was he even feeling this way? He couldn't understand it.

When he didn't answer, Natasha simply pulled him down to the bed beside her and curled up next to him. "Just stay here with me, in this moment. Tell me what's going on."

"I don't know," he ground out. He laid stiffly beneath her, not sure if he should hold her, if she would welcome his touch or if this was nothing more than a job to her. She was capable of doing quite a lot for the sake of a job, no emotions involved.

And oh, how he wanted those emotions directed to him.

Natasha shifted, lips pressed tightly together, and straddled his waist, practically sitting on his upper thighs. Her hands rested lightly on his chest, but she could clearly feel the tension in his body. "You can't ask," she guessed. "You can't let anyone else see that something is wrong. You can't be anything less than strong, can't be thought of as weak. The thought of someone else helping you, of coming to your rescue or maybe being better than you, makes you sick." He wasn't even breathing as she spoke, and it felt as though his entire body could shatter without any effort on her part. The Norns had brought him so low, hadn't they?

She leaned forward and brought her fingers to his lips. "There's no one else here, Loki. Just you and me. You told me true things before."

"That was different," he managed to grind out before regret set in.

"Why was it?"

It would be weakness to squirm beneath her gaze, but he wanted to. Would it distract her? Maybe arouse her so that he could simply fuck her and be done with it, turn her from the sharp blades of this conversation, leave him to wallow in his own poison?

But he cared what she thought of him, and that would undoubtedly destroy any warmth of feeling she might have for him.

"I wasn't Loki then," he said finally.

Understanding seemed to dawn in her expression. "Leikr," she murmured. "Do we share this name with others? Or keep it between ourselves?"

Loki slowly brought his hands up to her waist. "It would be cowardly to hide behind it."

"Practical," she corrected. "The world isn't exactly fond of Loki, you know."

His breath caught in his throat. "You would... It can't be so easy."

"Reinvention is never easy," Natasha murmured. "But you know I'd take care of you. I was there to help you be Leikr, and I saw you for who you were. As much as that scares you, Loki, you know you need that, too."

"Why are you being so kind to me?" he asked, voice breaking.

"Someone needs to be," she replied.

"But why you?"

"Someone gave me a choice a long time ago. Someone went a different way, and showed me kindness when I thought I didn't deserve it."

"That different call."

"Exactly." She ran the backs of her fingers along his jaw. "I told you before, Loki. _Leikr._ I see you, and I know you think of yourself as a monster." Loki knew his lips trembled at that, but he held himself still to keep from responding. "You think yourself unworthy, incapable of any kindness, of anything good. You're not pure, so you can't be _good."_

"You would think otherwise?" he asked, tongue feeling like a thick gag in his mouth.

Natasha laughed, a self deprecating and bitter edge that he didn't recognize. "Do you think that I'm good, Loki?"

He blinked at her and then moved to catch her wrist in his hand. "You are who you have to be."

"Yes, I am. And I'm good at what I do. But am I _good?"_

Licking his lips, he brought her wrist to his lips and gave her a soft and courtly kiss. "You're good to me, Natasha."

She smiled at him, a genuine, soft curl to her lips. "And I think you can be good in the same way." When he stilled, fingers tightening on her wrist, she shook her head. "Good isn't absolute or boring. It doesn't have to be. You can work in the name of a higher ideal, a bigger purpose than yourself—"

"Your ledger," he murmured.

"—and it doesn't mean that you stop being who you are. Do you really think the Norns would have sent you here if you were unworthy?"

Loki couldn't breathe, and he looked up at her with wide eyes. Hope and fear warred in his chest, and for the life of him, he couldn't be ashamed that she saw it.

"The Norns know everything, Loki. _Everything._ They know exactly what you've done, what you wanted to do, why. Yet they had you retrieve the gems, and they sent you here. They didn't hurt you. Not physically, I know, but your pride probably took a huge dent," she added with a wry smile, cupping his cheek with her free hand. "You're here because you're meant to be here. Because you have a job to do. Because you're the only one that can do it, and you're _worthy_ enough to do it."

It should have shamed him that his eyes watered. It should have bothered him that her words meant so much, that it _mattered_ to him. But he cared for her, perhaps loved her as much as he had ever loved anyone or anything. He didn't have a name for it, the bond between them, and her regard mattered to him as much as Frigga's had.

He pulled her down on top of him and kissed her fiercely, as if she was the air he needed to breathe. She responded in kind, grinding her hips down against him, and it took all of his will to keep from simply using a spell to make their clothes disappear. "I won't be pitied," he growled against her mouth.

"I don't pity you," she replied, nipping at his lip with her teeth. "Pity is for the weak and the defenseless. You're neither."

Thank the Norns she saw him that way.

Their clothes were stripped off in a flurry of hurried movements and banged limbs. He was mortified, but she only laughed in amusement as she kicked off her boots. Could she really be as eager for this as he was? Could she really want him for his own sake?

"I want you," he murmured, curling a hand around the back of her neck once she was fully naked and bare to his gaze. "I want you, I want my Tsarina, I want the deadly Black Widow. I want everything you have to give."

She grinned up at him and pulled down on his shoulders. "Only if you give me everything back in return," she purred. "I demand nothing less."

"Of course," he said, dropping to his knees in front of her. He looked up, seeing her partially stooping so that he still had a grip on her neck. He couldn't say the word _love,_ but she probably couldn't either.

So he pressed his face to her abdomen, kissing her soft skin and caressing her hip with his free hand. Natasha ran her fingers through his hair, scratching at his scalp lightly, making him want to arch and shift into her touch. When she lifted one leg and planted her foot on the bed, it opened her up to him. Immediately, he dove in and feasted upon her, urged on by the hand in his hair and the soft gasps of pleasure. Loki swirled his tongue over her clit, then placed his lips around it and sucked gently. She mewled, tugging on his hair, throwing her head back and grasping one of her own breasts. He couldn't help but smile at the debauched pose, elegant and erotic as he looked up, and he could feel his arousal build even higher.

As soon as she came in a rush of wetness on his tongue, he rose to his feet and swept her up into his arms. Natasha smiled at him, a sultry one that made him growl with need. He wanted to fuck her pretty mouth, wanted to sink deep into her heat, wanted her to bind him up and use him, wanted her to tell him he was _good,_ that he was worthy of her, that he was useful, that he had purpose. He wasn't a lost foundling with her, he wasn't a relic that should be locked away and forgotten. He wasn't _nothing,_ he wasn't _empty._

He laid her down onto his bed and sank into her, feeling the hot warmth and her eager welcome. "Harder," she urged him, grasping his hips, baring her teeth in a feral smile. She was no innocent to this game, after all, and she knew exactly what she wanted from him.

And by the Tree, Loki knew how to give it to her.

Natasha keened as he thrust into her, his entire body hovering over hers, eyes locked to his. He wanted to memorize this moment, this sensation. He wasn't horrid, wasn't terrible. In this moment, he _belonged._

This was where he was meant to be. This was his home.

The End


End file.
